Fiddler's Green
by serenademysoul
Summary: Sixteen years ago, a baby of pirate blood was discovered on the Spanish coast. As the Brethren court gathers, the legendary Davy Jones sees this child as Captain Jack Sparrow’s downfall.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER.**

**I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS USED HERE. PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN (_CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL, DEAD MAN'S CHEST, AT WORLD'S END_) AND IT'S SCREEN STORY ARE THE PROPERTY OF WALT DISNEY PICTURES.**

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**Author's note:** I'm trying this again :P

* * *

Morning broke over the water, casting a glittering glow over the waters of the Mediterranean. A calm start to the day, not a ripple breaking the tranquil of the sea's surface. A shadow cast itself over the sand, the shadow of a slow-pacing aging woman. Her skin dark and shrivelled from a lifetime of exposure of the Spanish sun and her greying mane scraped back into a tight bun. The woman's bead eyes glared out at the water, hearing the dim echo of what sounded like a whine. As her vision focused, she just about saw what looked like a sealed casket, floating on the surface of the water. Raising her hand and stretching her fingers straight on her brow, she squinted out. The object slowly bobbed closer to the bank of the beach, the woman stopping stunned as it became clear what she was hearing. Soft crying.

'Mi dios!' The elder exclaimed, rushing out to the water and shuffling her ankles against the breaking waves. She rushed with effort, making a hasty grab for the casket floating near and eagerly pulling off the straw sewn lid. Inside, a whining baby arching its back as it cried. A shock of black hair on its head and dusk black eyes to match, squeezed to a squint as the child cried. The woman blinked in disbelief at the baby wrapped in the white lace shawl, spying a rumpled note tucked harshly into the bindings.

'Lo que en la tierra?' She whispered taking a hold of the discarded paper and smoothing it out to read.

_El niño tiene malvado pirata sangre. Hacer del mundo un favor y se ahogan_, the note read. No name, no real explanation. Just a harsh warning.

The aging Spaniard gasped, not at the warning but more so at the prospect at what the letter proposed. Never would she harm a child, nor a crying one in need of nourishing for that matter. She pushed the letter into the pocket of her apron and looked down at the child rather sweetly.

'Hola bebé,' She cooed, scooping up the whining child and tucking it into the crook of her arm, already fond of her new found discovery. The baby continued to cry, distressed and miserable. Her shawl damp at the water having seeped through the casket.

'Shhh un poco,' The woman soothed, rocking the child and beginning to descend away from the beach. 'Shh.'

* * *


	2. Peculiarities

The furry creature eyed the item in his master's fingers curiously, black eyes blinking. He sat obedient though, as was his whim.

'Stay, Jack. _Stay_ .. ' A resonant, thickly accented male voice cooed to the animal, holding a peanut between his dirtied fingernails. The monkey cocked his head to the side as he obeyed, opening his mouth and releasing a high pitched cry.

'There y'aar, who's a good boy?' The voice that was Barbossa beamed, submitting the peanut to Jack the Monkey. The animal nibbled at it fiercly, pleased. The aging pirate straightened upright, breathing in the salty sea air that met his lungs and releasing the most satisfied of sighs. 'Aye, it be a fine day for takin' t'sea, says I.'

On the deck below, several roughly clad crew members scurried to and fro. Some were swabbing, and some were humming tunes conceived at sea as they paced. A particularly skin-thin man, proud in his ragged clothing knuckled miserably at his eye socket, sniffing with upset as his companion approached him from behind.

'Aye, don't be rubbin' at it.' Pintel said softly, voice heavy as he scratched at his dirty, scraggly beard.

The downtrodden Ragetti lowered his hand obediently, revealing his wooden eye. 'It does splinter somethin' terrible.'

His friend sympathised, 'We'll get y'an eye patch, aye?'

'What for?' Ragetti asked, genuinely surprised.

'So y'don't have to wear that ruddy eye.' He answered.

The scruffy man shook his head, 'No no, I gots to keep it safe.

Pintel rolled his own eyes, huffing. 'I'm tryin' t'help ye here!'

The equally as scruffy friend noticed his companion wasn't paying him notice, but staring over his petite form in awe, mouth ajar and wooden eye unfocused. 'Oi, y'listenin'?'

Still no answer, 'Oi!'

Ragetti lifted a long finger, pointing shakily. 'L-Look!'

With an unimpressed sigh, Pintel turned to humour him, but then was taken. Only feet from the Pearl was a burning wreckage floating on the water, burning pieces of ship dismounted along the surface as smoke rose up from the horrific, burning wreck. Several bodies floating in the red tinted water. Barbossa had already noticed, flinging out his telescope to have a good, long look.

'By t'powers I see the remains of a Kraken attack!' He announced, scanning the charred wreck. The crew below erupted into frightened raillery, some looking out at the water for any sign of the beast. A hint of a smirk had gained on the captain's lips, panning the scene with his telescope, thinking the creature satisfied as he spied a tricorn hat floating along the bloodied waters surface.

'Nothing gets past Hector, I see.' A mocking voice spoke rather calmly, causing Barbossa to glare away from his own telescope at Jack, merely a step from him looking out at the ruins through a telescope of his own. The elder captain rolled his eyes critically, obviously not impressed.

'How the blazes did y'escape the Kraken this time?' Barbossa asked, bemused.

Jack looked up from his telescope, face lighting up with a grin as he tucked the equipment away. 'Grabbed two parrots and flew on me jolly way.'

'Aye, well ye best be grabbing yerself two more parrots. Yer not takin' me ship down with ye.' Barbossa said firmly.

'I think you'll find beasties long gone,' He answered, lifting his index finger in announcement with a slight swagger to his posture. 'And mate, you and I both know this ship flies _my_ flag.'

The captain's composure was obviously weak, swaying where he stood and sloppily jabbing his finger against his chest as he stubbornly insisted ownership of the Pearl. Barbossa felt like he was dealing with a child. An ever-drunk, silly child. 'If this be yer ship, then tell me Jack, where be the mast?'

Jack gave him a furrowed look of confusion, the question simple. But nonetheless swinging his arm to point at the erected pole standing proud at the centre of the ship's deck. 'There.'

'Aye, and where be the main course?' Barbossa continued, his voice emphasised and deliberate.

Dropping his finger, the pirate sloppily pointed down a large, lower sail blowing away at the masses base. 'There.'

'Very good, now where be the brig?'

Jack grinned, this series of questions ridiculously simple. Obviously not catching the hint Barbossa was sending. 'Down below.

'That be correct.' The pirate grinned wickedly, then nodding for two of the crew. Two rough looking men stepped forward, seizing Jack by each arm at Barbossa's whim. 'Ye kindly be takin' Jack t'_his_ brig.'

* * *

The roughish waters kicked against the wooden dock, spraying into the face of that who eagerly knelt at its edge, squinting out at the horizon. Eyes a burning black and dusky dark hair cropped short and face half hidden, shadowed underneath a worn bandana. Clad proud in an off-white and torn shirt, rumpled camlet jacket and rather dimming, baggy trousers tucked into scuffed boots. The sea today, was under peculiarity.

'Bellemy,' An accented voice approached from behind, setting themselves beside so named. Their skin darkened by constant sunlight and youthful face following this person's gaze. 'Qué haces?'

'I'm watching, that's what I'm doing.' Named Bellemy replied, not tearing dark eyes away.

'Qué estás mirando para?' The Spaniard companion asked with curiousity.

'I don't know what I'm watching for, per say. Just that there's something out there.' Bellemy pointed out a finger, hand wrapped in dirtied and worn gauzed from the wrist up. Fingers exposed. 'Minutes ago, I saw something emerge from the water. Right out there.'

'De dónde ir?'

'I don't know, it just .. dipped back down. But it was huge, I know that.' The youth stumbled to their feet, boots thudding against the wooden dock's hollowed under surface. Beginning to smirk as their fingers reached for owned dagger. 'Come on.'

'Donde vamos, Bellemy?' The young Spanish girl asked, long black hair blowing against the salt wind.

'We're going hunting.' Bellemy smirked, unsheathing the cutlass fully.

* * *


	3. Hunting

The newly commandeered dinghy stayed steady above the waves, the two bodies inside statue still. The Spaniard huddled cautiously to herself, hugging her knees and trembling with worry, while her friend stood well balanced at the foot of the wooden boat, dagger in hand and waiting, like a tiger waiting for its pray. Bandana moved from the top of the head and tied round the face, hiding from the nose down.

'Esto es una locura .. ' The girl muttered, to herself but her friend heard, glaring at her over their shoulder.

'Don't be negative. You need to learn how to hunt if you're going to survive out here.' Bellemy replied.

'Que no saben ni lo que estamos buscando!'

'I know that!' Bellemy shot back. 'Even if I don't know what we're looking for, it's worth finding out.'

Right on par, a bluish blur swayed under a distance of the boat in the water. Not what Bellemy had seen, but it caught the youth's attention. It was swimming rather sharply, circling the boat.

'Qué es lo .. ?'

Shaking the head slowly and keeping a careful eye on the pacing blue blur, Bellemy quietly replied. 'I don't know .. '

The motioning creature was slowly emitting into an upward spiral, getting ever closer to the boat. It's features becoming more prominent as it got closer. The Spanish girl gasped, jerking with alarm which made the boat sway. 'Tiburón!' She cried, distressed. '_Tiburón_!'

'Don't rock the boat!' Bellemy said, arms flailing out to balance. 'And don't be silly, it's not .. '

Looking down at the water with a heavy swallow and a mind penetrated by a string of fear, Bellemy cautiously peeped over the side of the dinghy. Seeing with one's own eyes the danger approaching ' .. A shark!'

Instantly Bellemy was thrown off balance with a sudden gust of fright, landing on the Spaniard with a thud that shook the boat heavily. The girl sobbed quietly, feeling her doom. Her friend quickly covered her mouth, voice as silent as the blow of wind. '_Shh_, don't speak. Don't make a sound, it can smell your fear.'

The frightened Spanish girl made a muffled whimper of acknowledgment behind Bellemy's hand clasped against her mouth. Silently, they remained motionless, the suspense both thrilling and terrifying at once. The excruciated two waited, breathing slow and deliberate as they heard the water around them slow. Daring breath a sigh of relief as the waves calmed.

'Alright,' Bellemy sighed, releasing the Spanish girl and easing back with relief. 'I think it's .. '

A sudden knock to the side of the boat from the unexpected underwater party delivered a heavy swing to the boat, the Spaniard quickly grasping the sides of the boat while screaming with fright. Though Bellemy was caught off guard and was thrown into the water. Her dagger knife flew from her hand as she crashed into the water with a loud splash.

'Bellemy!' The girl cried, flying out to peer over the edge of the boat with desperation. Her friend hidden beneath the crystal blue water. '_Bellemy_!'

* * *

Beneath the decks of the Black Pearl, stood the miserable and dank brig. Cells thrown together of rusted bars empty and lonely, besides from a single body lay back flat on the dirty, straw strewn floor. His eyes calmly closed and his hands rested on top of his torso, relaxed.

'Jack,' A voice made his head perk, eyes snapping opening and instantly frowning. Behind the scaly bars he could see Elizabeth. Young and beautiful, skin tinted gold like the sun's light, hair like flowing wheat and burning brown eyes looking down at him.

The captain grinned at her, greeting. 'As you were, Elizabeth.'

She grinned herself, shaking her head as she held a thick, rusted black key up to her face. 'You are very calm for a wanted man.'

'And you are very calm for a wanted _woman_.' Jack answered, smooth and clever.

Elizabeth's grin dropped, 'You know what I meant.'

'Indubitably, love.'

The woman huffed once, then sighed as she began to push the key into lock hole. Making the rusted door shake a little. 'Barbossa wants you off the ship.'

'And I want _him_ off my ship, all very counterbalanced ain't we?' Jack replied, beginning to stumble to his feet.

The door delivered an eerie squeak as Elizabeth eased it open, removing the key with a clank. She looked to Jack, tucking the key into a pouch in her article of worn clothing. 'Don't tell him.'

'You're an angel.' He replied, stopping just before her as he made his way out. Flaring his outlined eyes with a hint of a smirk, then flouncing to the main level with infamously poor conduct in his step. Though the captain found himself stopping with surprise, furrowing his brow at the hastily hurrying crew, all rushing to gather round a newly gained spectacle.

'Master Turner, what be all the hullabaloo?' Barbossa pushed his way through the crowding crew, stopping behind Will who was knelt over an inactive body. Trembling beside Will, was the Spaniard.

'I saw them and pulled them aboard, this one is unconscious.' Will replied, looking down at the youth lay on the deck and tapping their face lightly with the back of his hand in a weak attempt to revive them. Face half hidden beneath a bandana, short black hair soaked through .. and blood soaking through the right leg of their trousers.

Barbossa frowned down at the sight, then turned to the shaking girl. Her own clothing soaked through to the bone and shivering miserably. Stricken with fright. 'Girl, what be yer name?'

'Flor.' She replied with a shake in her voice.

'Aye, Flor. Mind tellin' me what went on?'

She suddenly sprung to life, desperately spewing. 'Tiburón, señor!' Flor exclaimed. 'Fuimos atacados por un tiburón!'

Barbossa frowned at her, eyeing her as if he was looking at pure insanity. 'Ya want to b'sayin' that again?'

'Hubo .. un .. _tiburón_!' Flor repeated, slower but with some frustration. Barbossa simply shook his head with hopelessness, turning his back on her to face the crew.

'Who here be able to decipher a little _Español_?' He cast out to the crew, to which their looked at each other with confusment. Barbossa sighed, aggravated. 'Listen here y'great bunch o'planks if there be danger in these waters we be needin' to know! Now, who here can talk to this lass?'

'A spot of Spanish? No bother!' Jack proudly announced through the crowd, pushing his way through and sliding amongst some of the individual crew members. 'Pardon, oop, s'cuse me.'

Barbossa glared at him, silently unsurprised. Jack was bound to find a way out of the brig sooner or late, unfortunately. 'That right, Jack?'

'Course!' He replied, looking insulted as he stopped next to Will. 'Y'not heard the stories? I'm _master_ of the foreign tongue.' Jack stressed the word greatly.

'Just get on with it b'fore I'm tempted to fetch the plank.' Barbossa sighed, pushing back through the crowd but not before yelling at them. 'Back to work y'scurvy lot!'

The bunch muttered to each other, but the crowd began to clear nonetheless. Jack looked on after them, then turned to the scared Spanish girl. Grinning widely.

'What's the problem, young miss?'

Flor tried again, 'Yo y mi amigo fueron atacados por un tiburón.'

Jack rose his brow, but was silently relieved at the idea that it was not another Kraken surge. Now convinced the creature had bobbed off somewhere. 'A shark y'say?'

'Sí señor.'

Nodding, Jack eyed the young lass with a mischievous gleam in his eye. 'Am I right in thinking you saved your little amigo?'

Flor gave a weak nod, 'Si.'

'Ah, you must be brave eh?' Jack smirked, easing a little closer to discreetly mutter to her in her first tongue. '_Mujeres valientes seguramente demostrar su valor en más maneras entonces una_ .. '

The girl jumped back with a sharp gasp, scowling at the naughty captain and raising her hand to deliver him a sharp slap across the face. She stomped away, annoyed while Jack stood in post-slap position, frowning. 'Hmm, probably deserved that.'

Composing himself, he looked down at Will. 'Any good, William?'

'He's breathing.' Will replied, turning to look over his shoulder. 'But the wound on his leg, it looks quite bad.'

Jack winced at the sight of blood staining the Pearl's deck, looking down at Will then turning to swagger off. 'Well then, can't be having casualties here. Off 'e goes.'

'We can't leave him, Jack! Not when he's wounded!' Will exclaimed.

The captain stopped, grunting and mumbling under his breath as he painfully turned to glare at Will. 'If you insist, take him somewhere, anywhere. Just out my way, savvy?'

* * *


	4. Off coarse

Inside a more secluded quarter of the Pearl, a humble yet comfortable sitting had been made for the newly found, injured youngun. Bellemy lay silent and tranquil, breathing soft beneath the faded bandana hiding the youth's face. Stained red boots having been removed and the trouser leg of the wounded party having been rolled to the knee to expose the offensive wound. A set of gashing teeth marks, lucky to have escaped with merely an infliction as apposed to one's life.

Elizabeth entered the quarter, a cleanish cloth in one hand and a bowl of water under the other arm. She eased the door closed behind her, approaching the unconcious youth lay on the bedding. Her soft natured heart having overwhelmed her, feeling it right to tend to the younger one. A maternal instinct taking hold before even having breathed a word. She set down, placing the bowl on her lap and wringing out the dampened cloth, raising it to dab at the bloodied infliction. A ghastly sight, and so sad to see someone as young as this one pitting their lives in the open water. The woman's relaxed eyes set to the bandana hiding the youth's face, furrowing her brow at it. Why hide one's face? She stopped dabbing, and reached her fingers forward. More curious now, as the tips of her fingers brushed the material.

Bellemy suddened released a deep, hearty gasp, as if having not breathed in years and sitting bolt upright, grabbing Elizabeth's wrist before she could take a hold of the item. 'Who are you?' Bellemy demanded, breathing heavy and breathless. 'Where is Flor?'

Elizabeth could not pretend to be surprised, jerking back and near dropping the bowl of water rested. She looked alarmingly at her seized wrist, but swallowed it and remained as calm as she could possibly be. 'I'm a friend.'

'Where is Flor?' Bellemy repeated.

'She is safe, I swear to you.' She replied, voice collected. The younger's grip shakily maintained for merely a moment longer, then loosened on Elizabeth's wrist, bandaged hand falling to the surface of the blanketed bedding.

Bellemy became calmer, 'Where am I?'

'You're aboard the Black Pearl, we found you and your friend after a shark attacked you.'

'The _Black Pearl_?' Bellemy exclaimed, then scoffing. Clearly unswayed. 'It's a ghost story, a legend. Where am I really?'

Elizabeth felt herself smirking, 'Yes. That's what I thought, back when I didn't know any better.'

'Are you mad?'

'If you think that so hastily, you honestly don't want to meet the crew,' She chuckled, feeling as though she was handling this was positvity. The key right now being calm until what was to be done with the two teenagers bobbed up out of the blue. Wringing out the cloth once more, Elizabeth lightly swept at the weeping wound. 'Now, stay still.'

Flinching at the sharp pain running up the wounded leg, Bellemy remained obediently still as possibly could be. Softening as one came to realise, this comely woman meant no harm, and whether or not the Black Pearl was but an urban myth was to be seen. 'When can I leave?'

'Difficult to say, I can't pretend your the most welcome person aboard.' Elizabeth replied.

'If the captain doesn't want me here, me and Flor will go.'

'Well, the _captains_ opinion's are somewhat biased.'

Bellemy frowned, 'Two men can't captain a ship.'

Elizabeth shook her head, smiling. 'Tell that to Jack and Barbossa.'

'Did you say _Barbossa_?' The teenager cut in, eyes widening. '_Captain_ Barbossa?'

'Yes,' Elizabeth replied, taken as she blinked. 'And Jack Sparrow. Constantly arguing over who captain's the Black Pearl.'

Bellemy's eyes bulged wide, dropped open mouth hidden beneath the bandana. 'My lord, I really am on the Black Pearl. Am I dead?'

Elizabeth blinked, 'No, why?'

'The Black Pearl is crewed by the damned men with with their own flesh dripping from their bones and captained by a man who was rejected from Hell itself. How can I _not_ be dead?' The youth's voice serious.

'I promise, your not dead.' Then woman's calmness made Bellemy question her entire belief, surely if nobody else was alarmed then why should just one person be? Peculiar. Nonetheless, Elizabeth continued mopping the wound.

The teenager's glance fell, watching the young woman dab at the stained leg. 'You never told me your name.'

'I'm Elizabeth Swann.' She replied quietly.

'Elizabeth _Swann_?' Bellemy stressed, brow furrowing. 'Of Port Royale?'

'Yes,' Elizabeth looked up questionably, but softly. 'Why?'

'Oh, nothing.' The youth quickly said, voice trailing away. 'Nothing.'

Even though she could not pretend she was convinced, Elizabeth kept a silent vigil and quietly wrung the cloth and dipped it into the bowl. As she went on to gingerly bandage with the off-white gauze, she added. 'Your name is Bellemy.'

'How did you know that?'

'Your friend was yelling it to the heavens when we found you, that's how.' Elizabeth said, tying a neat knot. She looked down at her work, smiling and nodding once in victory. 'That should do nicely.'

* * *

A tanned, dirty finger slid down the crease of the map, the man attached leaning his frowning face down level to study the ink-lined route. 'Perfect. We're bang on scheduel.'

The young man beside him leant against the wall with his arms folded, looking quite unimpressed. 'You don't know where we're going, Jack.'

'William,' The captain straightened upright, spinning round on his heel and prominently pointing his index finger. 'To find a place where you, or no other bugger here, has been _and _this place being bloody hard to find _and_ to top it all off this place being a fortress that'll blow our blinkin' brains out if they so suspect us of being an enemy vessel should we approach from the wrong angle,' He stepped closer to Will as he spoke, flaring his eyes and stopping shirt just infront of him. ' .. It is superfluous to _not_ know where you are going.'

'So your saying we have to be off coarse to find Shipwreck Cove?' Will inquired.

Jack looked at him as if it were simple, 'We can't be off coarse if we never had one to begin with.' He said. 'What I am saying is, I _do_ know where we are going. Just, no-one else does.'

Deciding it best to divert the subject before the eccentric captain trailed off into nonsense, Will continued. 'And what of the other two?'

'Other two?'

'The two we picked up along the way.'

Jack rose his brow in realisation. 'Oh, the _children_. Have they not pipped the post already?'

Will frowned at him with the upmost seriousness, to which the captain shrugged. 'What? What've I said?'

'I just can't believe you've not an ounce of sympathy,' He replied, looking at the captain. 'They got sprung with a shark, not exactly pleasant.'

'Who were the nitwits venturing out into shark-infested waters, then?'

'You, for one. Them, for two.' Will replied smartly, to which Jack flinched his lip infamously and glared at the young man.

'We can't take them to the Cove.' Jack replied. 'You know that.'

'And you, Jack? With nearly every pirate in the world after your blood?'

'It's my world, mate. You people just live in it.' The captain spoke with a mocking grin, edging away from the younger man. Yet naive to both him and Will, there was a young body listening with her ear pressed against the deck door. Her black hair flowing over her narrow shoulders and her olive skin giving a glistening glow in the sunlight, listening carefully. Spanish may have been her mother-tongue, but she could understand every word of english spoken, regardless of whether or not she could master the language for herself. And it was clear to her, silently inside her head, that they were on a ship travelling to somewhere of sheer importance. To Shipwreck Cove.

* * *


End file.
